Spike kept running as if his existence depended on it, and with regards to the solider boys, it did. The massive amount of alcohol in his system slowed him somewhat, but he trudged through the back alleys of Sunnydale to his cave, hoping the army troops hadn’t found this little hidey-hole. If he were lucky, Harmony would be gone, having met the pointy end of a table-leg.
Creeping silently towards the opening of the cavern, he stretched his senses to see if she was about, frowning when he caught no scent at all. Peeking around the corner, he surveyed his cave to find it in disarray. All the unicorns and flying horses were gone, along with the hot pink clothes and fluffy pillows; the cave was entirely devoid of Harmony, her stuff and her scent.
Stepping into the chamber, he tried to remember the last time he’d seen her, the days all seeming to run together. Righting a candelabra and lighting a few of the remaining candles, he surveyed the rocky room, wondering when she’d left and who’d be dumb enough to shack up with her, not including himself, of course. He’d done so out of desperation, he recalled, begging her to get him some food because he couldn’t feed himself.
Before that, it had just been sex – mediocre at best – but frequent, suspicious of the fact that he’d always pictured Buffy’s face while fucking her. Now he had an inkling of why Dru had left him and he couldn’t honestly blame her. It galled and excited him in turn, to want to feel your mortal enemy’s touch against your skin while dying to rip it apart in the next breath. It was enough to drive a fellow batty.
Harmony’s prattle never helped, especially when she batted her eyelashes and cooed about him being her Blondie Bear, which really was quite intolerable. It made him want to gag. The final straw was when she kept nattering on about how much he loved her before she left to get him a bite.
I love Syphilis more than you.
In retrospect, it was the wrong thing to say, as she proceeded to bash him on the head and left him lying unconscious… in the middle of the forest. She’d dragged him there, probably in hopes he’d be vamp flambé, but the itch of coming dawn woke him before he became just that. How was he supposed to know she knew what Syphilis was? It was sheer luck that the Commandos hadn’t happened upon him and he counted himself extremely fortunate. That had been weeks ago, starvation finally driving him to the Watcher’s apartment in desperation.
Kicking at some debris in the corner, a burnt smell became overwhelming as he followed the scent over to a pile on the dirt floor barely resembling anything. He squat down and picked through the remains, anger growing the more he sifted.
“Fucking Hell! She burnt my Sex Pistols CD’s!” he roared as he examined the melted plastic cover and tossed it to one side of the cave in irritation.
He also found his favorite red button up shirt melted onto an old LP of the Clash he had nicked back in the day. Great. The ditzy bitch even grabbed the good stuff. Was nothing sacred?
Sighing heavily, he looked around at the cave now decorated in Spartan style, and determined he’d better find a new place to stay. The Army goons would soon follow his tracks here and he felt too exposed. Unsure if he could return to the Watcher’s flat, he decided to take the chance anyway.
Gathering what was left of his kit and tossing it into an old duffle bag, he grabbed as much of his memorabilia he could find, hoping the really good stuff hadn’t become a victim of the let’s toast Spike’s things because we can’t toast his balls melted mass. Finding his Ramones, Iggy Pop, and Velvet Underground LP’s stashed between the mattress and box springs of the rickety bed he stuffed them in the bag and headed out towards Giles’ flat, hoping he could crash there until finding a place of his own. He’d consider it a bonus if he didn’t have to deal too much with the Scoobies.
Slinking away as quietly and covertly as possible, he reflected on the past few days that had become his own living Hell, ducking a low hanging tree branch as he left the area. Willow’s kindness had touched him deeply and he worried about her pervasive sadness.
“Red just needs some confidence is all. She’s right special, that one. Can smell the magic all over her. Doesn’t know how powerful she really is, I expect,” he mumbled to himself, thinking that he secretly adored her in that lavender outfit from last year. It made her look like a naughty school girl that he could bend over his knee and… okay, not going there, mate.
Shaking his head slightly, because it still twinged a bit every now and then, he slipped into the shadows that clung to the alley walls. Xander was another matter. “Whelp needs a man around, probably fed up with all the birds hanging about. Boy can hold his drink, that’s for sure. Have to drag him over to Rack ‘Ems and see if he’s any good. Might be able to hustle a bit of dosh if he is,” he explained to no one but the bum lying between some crates at the end of the alley.
“Rack ‘em good!” the bum slurred and fell back into a drunken stupor.
Paying no attention to the inebriated man, Spike surveyed the street for Commandos and finding none, quickly crossed to the edge of the park that adjoined Giles’ flat. “The Watcher… now there’s a mystery,” he huffed as he picked his way through the playground equipment. “He’s either bleedin’ insane or… well, he’s bleedin’ insane. Something’s up the old git’s sleeve, bashing me upside the head when he wants info he can get from any encyclopedia. Not like he keeps me around for the bloody conversation.”
He finally made it to the Watcher’s door and poised his fist to knock when the door swung open, light pouring out.
“Buffy?” he asked breathlessly, taking in the angelic vision, warm light surrounding her.
“Oh my God, Spike!” she cried and launched herself into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist.
Holding her body close, he looked at Rupert over her head in confusion at the gesture. Giles just shrugged and mouthed, I’ll tell you later, shutting the door to give them a little privacy, though why he did gave him a little shudder.
“Spike! `Hic… I thought you were dustiness,” she garbled against his leather duster.
Again with the confusion, but it tugged at his heartstrings. Why would the Slayer care if you are dusty, old mate? Spike thought to himself.
“`Cause, you big idiot, you know where the solider guys are… and without you, can’t find them,” she mumbled in answer to his thought. “Plus, `hic, you said you’d make sure I got home safely. I waited… and waited, `hic, and I had to walk home with Wills.”
She was still completely soused from drinking earlier, and he wondered how much more she’d had since his departure.
It was the only explanation he could come up with that would explain why the Slayer was this close to him, clinging to him as if he’d disappear if she let go. It might also explain the scent that suddenly assaulted his nose as she snuggled closer to him. Oh Jesus… cave-girl Buffy was indeed a sight to behold.
“I’m gonna let you down easy, pet, yeah?”
She tightened her grip on his coat and groaned. “No, you’re so comfortable… and you smell… ewww… like,” she sniffed his lapel and nuzzled into his hair, which drove him mad. “Like burnt clothes or plastic. How come?” she inquired, looking at him with dopey eyes.
Breathing heavily, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he returned her nuzzle, just under her ear. It wasn’t fair, really, as he realized he needed to stop the Slayer before she made a spectacle of herself, clutching at his body the way she was. However, his body was clutching just as fiercely in return, and it took a will of iron to put things to a halt.
“Pet,” he whispered, trembling with barely contained desire. “Need to put you down. I’ve not eaten and your blood smells mighty brilliant right now,” he lied.
She pulled back to gaze at him, blinking slowly as she tried to comprehend what he was saying through a drunken haze. “Hungry?” she said thickly.
Snap! He zeroed in on her eyes as he picked up her double entendre and he flared his nostrils. “Very, very hungry, Buffy,” he murmured, lowering his head, his mouth barely touching hers.
“So am I,” she agreed and rose up to meet his lips as she wound her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck.
The kiss was all consuming and they quickly got lost in each other. Tightening her legs around his trim waist, she ground herself against his already hard cock and he moaned at the closeness of her heat.
God, Buffy… you taste like sunshine, he whimpered in her mind.
Lost in bliss, she arched her back as he began suckling on her neck. What’s happening to us? I can’t breathe without you.
Don’t know, but I can’t let go. Cupping her ass, he shoved her back, flush to the door, thrusting against her without thought to whose door he was banging her into.
Rupert suddenly opened the door, both Buffy and Spike falling to the floor of his apartment. They landed in a heap at his feet, never noticing the change in scenery, as Spike continued to kiss her roughened pouty lips, both grasping at each other fervently.
“Oh, pouty! Look at that lip… gonna get it… gonna get it,” he murmured, nibbling the corner of her mouth, paying no heed to Giles staring at them in abject horror.
“Oh, stop,” Buffy giggled and batted his chest playfully.
“Yes, please… stop. Both of you, or I’ll go blind,” Giles intoned harshly.
They froze, slowly turning their heads to glare at him. Knowing the moment was over, Buffy rolled out from under Spike to stand, pulling him up after her. “But he’s such a good kisser… yummy, yummy!” she giggled at her Watcher, licking her lips.
He stared in shock at her behavior. “Do you realize what you’re doing? This is nonsense, for God’s sake! Something must be making you act this way. It’s the only thing I can think of that would have you lip-locked with this undead creature you so recently despised.”
Wanting to growl in outrage, Spike instead stepped away from the Slayer. “Watcher’s got a point, luv,” he regretfully agreed. His heart broke a little as he watched a blush creep its way across her face as she slowly backed away from him.
Shaking her foggy head in the negative, she regretted it immediately. “Oh God, I’m gonna be sick!” she yelled, running for the bathroom. Slamming the door, the men heard violent retching proceed soon after.
Turning back around, Giles pointed a finger at Spike, indicating a stern lecture was about to ensue but the vamp held his hand up. “Save it, Watcher. I know. She’s a bit smashed is all,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing happened.” Shying away from his angry glower, he retreated to the foyer and grabbed his bag that was still outside the front door.
Standing in his way, Giles crossed his arms and scoffed. “If you think I’m going to let you stay here after what I just witnessed-”
“Saw the G.I. Joes at the Bronze,” the vamp interrupted, dropping his belongings at the bottom of the stairs. “Might want to warn your Slayer about sleepin’ with the enemy.”
The normally patient Brit became irritated with this new information as he fell back onto the couch, exhausted from the day’s events. “Did they see you?”
Sitting on the table across from him, Spike grimaced. “Think they caught a glimpse… would’ve been captured if Red hadn’t shoved me out into the alley. As it happened, Buffy was cozying up to the head crew cut, like she knew him. My wager is he fancies her,” he reported, trying to ignore the little ache that came with that statement. What she saw in the behemoth he’d never know. “Was giving her shit about drinking with her mates.”
“The others were there, too? And they let you near the table?” Giles asked in astonishment as he sidetracked the idea of his Slayer’s insensible drinking.
Spike snapped his fingers in front of the other man’s face. “Hello? Anyone in there? I just said Buffy knew one of the Commandos!” he growled with frustration.
“No, I don’t,” she said as she emerged from the hallway. Apparently she was done tossing her cookies.
“Buffy, you might want to sit down,” Giles said gently as he indicated the spot next to him on the couch.
Still woozy, she made her way over and plopped down, laying her head on her Watcher’s shoulder to keep the room from spinning. It was hard seeing five Spikes’ float in her field of vision, so she closed her eyes, trying not to fall asleep.
“Buffy, tell us what happened tonight,” Giles prompted.
Replaying the evening in her fuzzy mind, she recalled all that Spike and she had done. “Went to the dorm to find Willow, but she was already gone. Then Spike went a bit crazy over the new turf they laid in the quad.”
“Entrance to the bloody lab is down there, I know it, Watcher,” he confirmed her story at Giles’ confused look.
“His butt was so cute stuck up in the air like that!” she giggled, slapping her thigh.
Both men raised their eyebrows.
“Anyway-” she continued, “… we went to the Bronze and Xander and Anya were already there, talking about their love life… or lack there-of. Then we started chatting and next thing you know, Willow is dancing up to Spike and they all start drinking,” she said drowsily, the alcohol in her system starting to have a sedative affect.
“So, you’re telling me that the others willingly spent time in Spike’s company, drinking with him, is that right?” Giles asked in amazement.
Spike looked affronted. “I’m not diseased, Rupes… and I know how to have fun.”
“Anywho,” she went on without taking a breath. “Willow pulls Spike out on the dance floor when Riley shows up with Forest and Graham. The next thing I know, Spike is gone and Riley is returning from the dance floor with a very pissed-off Willow.”
“I’m sorry but I’m a bit lost… why is Willow upset?”
“Said she’d tell me later, but she left with Xander and Anya… I think they’re gonna make sweet love tonight!” she giggled once more as her head lolled around on Giles’ shoulder.
Impatient to know if he needed to leave town, Spike asked hesitantly, “Slayer… what happened with the college gits?”
“Riley asked if he should walk me home or something and I said, ‘Hell no! I can take of myself, thank you very much!’ He’s so Teutonic,” she muttered and promptly fell asleep, her head lying against the back of the couch.
“She doesn’t know they’re Army goons, Giles. Leave it that way,” Spike said quietly, his look softening as he watched her breathe deep and peacefully.
The vamp must be deadly serious if he called him Giles. “She won’t hear it from me.”
“Thanks, mate.”
“Well… um, well. Let’s get her to bed then, shall we?” Giles suggested as he hoisted Buffy’s arms up and Spike grabbed her legs. They trudged upstairs carrying the incapacitated Slayer and laid her out on Spike’s bed.
“I’ll kip downstairs, Rupes. She’ll be right as rain in the morn,” he assured the Watcher.
“Hmm.”
~*~
The night progressed uneventfully until Spike heard Buffy stumbling around upstairs at three AM. He crept up the stairs and listened to her moan about a headache, snickering to himself as he leaned against the wall.
“Lousy son-of-a-bitch, I can hear you,” she practically growled.
Stifling a chuckle, he slowly opened her door, losing his control and laughing out right. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red-rimmed, and she squinted against the hall light filtering in. She was not a pretty sight.
“Bit roughed up, Slayer?” he asked quietly. He knew what it was like to have a hang over, so he appreciated her foul mood.
“God, make the room stop spinning, please!” she whimpered.
Entering, he sat on the bed next to her, taking her hand in his. “Shhh, how about I just talk and hopefully it will take your mind off the pounding, yeah?”
She nodded slightly and curled her arms and head up in his lap. Taken aback by the gesture, he started talking about inane things that were flying around in his head, hoping she wouldn’t mind if he stroked her hair.
“Some ancient Roman delicacies from around the year two-hundred A.D. were… parrot tongue, ostrich brains, thrush tongue, peacock comb, and nightingale tongue,” he said, never thinking on the subject matter until he heard Buffy start to gag.
“Oh, stop! Please stop, I’m gonna hurl!” she moaned.
“Sorry, pet!” he genuinely apologized. “Let’s try something else. I know! Every part of these plants is poisonous: Azalea, foxglove, nightshade, oleander, and rhododendron.”
“Not helping!” she groaned as she reached for the spare trashcan next to the bed and stuck her head in, retching loudly.
“Bugger!”
“Don’t you know anything cheerful?” Buffy complained as she laid her head back in his lap.
“Don’t do cheerful, pet…do funny though, how about that?” he asked quietly.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Just no… no jokes about graves, tongues, or blood.”
“Sure thing, pet,” he said with a smirk. “Ever see the film One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?” he asked as he softly stroked her hair away from her face.
His hand was lulling her into a peaceful slumber and she nodded. “Watched it with my mom once.”
“The woman who played Nurse Ratchett was Louise Fletcher and she won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in nineteen-seventy-five. In her speech, she thanked Jack Nicholson for ‘making being in a mental institution just like being in a mental institution,’” he chuckled.
Snorting with laughter, she immediately regretted it. “Ugh, no laughing either… God, will this never end?”
“Get some fluids and food in you, luv, and you’ll even out.” He slipped from the side of the bed, kneeling down by her sweaty face, tucking a limp strand of hair behind her ear. “Anythin’ else I can do for you?”
“Spike, are you good at government and history?” she asked offhandedly.
Curious to see where this was going, he answered, “Yeah, sure. Bloody lived long enough. Why?”
Can you still read my thoughts?
Blimey, luv, what you have in mind then?
“I need to give a presentation tomorrow in my government class and I didn’t study, what with all that’s going on. Could you come to campus with me and help?” she asked meekly.
Spike stared at her. “Hate to break it to you Slayer… but that big round ball of fire in the sky will be high and intolerable.”
She scrunched up her face in a mischievous grin. “Got something to help with that. So will come? I have to give a report on espionage and I haven’t the faintest clue about anything. Pretty please?” she pouted.
His eyes became unfocused as he stared at her lips… her pouty, oh so kissable lips. Daring not to speak and ruin the moment, he held his breath and whispered in her mind. Do you feel this, Buffy?
Twining her fingers with his, she gripped them tightly as she started to drift off. I feel warm… I feel lo…
Buffy?
Her light snore both irritated and made him laugh at the same time. Kissing her forehead, he settled down next to her on the bed, never releasing her hand, anticipating an uncomfortable night.
“Spike?” she mumbled after a few moments of silence.
“Yeah, luv?”
There was a long pause, then, “Thanks.”
“For what?” he asked softly.
“For not eating my friends while they were doing the funky chicken and boozing,” she yawned.
Chuckling, he patted their joined hands with his free one. “As I see it, Slayer… every saint has a past and every sinner a future.” Tightening his grip, he whispered, “Thanks for trustin’ me.”
Hearing her breathing even out, Spike realized she’d drifted off again into the nothingness of sleep, hoping she understood his gratitude. He never saw the slight smile playing upon her lips as he himself succumbed to the Sandman.
Yes, she understood.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know, shocker, huh? The muse kicked me in the head, via AOIFE (lovely email you sent me) and said, "Get off your fat ass and write another chapter of Omniscient." After the muse left with a bloody lip and me with a black eye, I started to write. Thanks for sticking with me for so long on this one. The next chapter will be soon in coming on this one because it's already half written. Thanks Sandra for reviewing as always and giving me grief about not posting another chapter.
****Warning**** If you've read any of the other chapters, you know I am playing heavily with the timeline in season 4. Some lines are directly taken from: The Initiative, Pangs, Something Blue and I'm sure others. The time line is way wacky. If you have issues with this... well, pooh on you. Enjoy and please review, it feeds my inner Spike. **Any and all facts come from the series "Uncle John's Bathroom Reader" which is full of trivial knowledge!**
****Warning**** If you've read any of the other chapters, you know I am playing heavily with the timeline in season 4. Some lines are directly taken from: The Initiative, Pangs, Something Blue and I'm sure others. The time line is way wacky. If you have issues with this... well, pooh on you. Enjoy and please review, it feeds my inner Spike. **Any and all facts come from the series "Uncle John's Bathroom Reader" which is full of trivial knowledge!**